


Broken?

by Chaotic_Cate



Series: Varian Desperately Needs a Hug [2]
Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon), Tangled (2010)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Heavy Angst, Hurt Varian (Disney), Incarcerated Varian (Disney), Sad Varian (Disney), Trauma, Varian Angst (Disney), Varian Has Issues (Disney), Varian Needs a Hug (Disney), Varian Redemption (Disney)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:47:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23933299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaotic_Cate/pseuds/Chaotic_Cate
Summary: Bonus chapter for my story, Lost Cause! (Also can be read as stand-alone) It fits within the time skip between chapter one and two.It's a song-fic of Anson Seabra's song "Broken". (Details and links in my chapter notes!)..It is a look into the darkened mind of Varian, as he struggles to hold on to who he once was, while plagued with guilt, grief, nightmares, and the horrors of prison.Read this if you're looking for some heavily angsty, sad incarcerated Varian content.
Relationships: Quirin & Varian (Disney), Ruddiger & Varian (Disney)
Series: Varian Desperately Needs a Hug [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1693492
Comments: 11
Kudos: 72





	Broken?

**Author's Note:**

> I heard the song "Broken" by Anson Seabra long ago, and I couldn't get this idea out of my head.  
> It's a beautiful and heart breaking song, and he is a very good artist, so please check him out! 
> 
> Song:  
> https://youtu.be/VDA04YOAd4c
> 
> Artist's YouTube channel:  
> https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC_tiTU44tTet2IN2daIEAgQ
> 
> *Be warned that there is some explicit language in the lyrics

**_If you see the boy I used to be_ **

**_Could you tell him that I'd like to find him_ **

In the dark of Corona’s dungeon, in a corridor all to himself, Varain lied. The cot beneath him seemed to become harder the longer he laid there unmoving. He didn’t care. He laid there, curled in on himself, with Ruddiger nestled at his feet. 

There was no controlling his train of thoughts these days. For so long, he kept these thoughts away by busying himself in alchemy and engineering. Varian longed so badly to have that again. 

The first few days, all that was on his mind was escape plans. They were backed by the lingering rage he felt towards the royal family and every person of authority around him. The plans were ridiculous, as if designed by a madman. Maybe they were. 

But now, with nothing left of what he once had, save for the tiny shred of moonlight through the window so high up that Varian had no chance of seeing out, he found himself wondering when he last felt like himself. 

When he returned to his father, after being shunned from the castle, and kneeled in defeat at the base of the amber prison, was when Varian had gone irreversibly too far. He knew that. But Varian had been plagued by these rocks for much longer than that. His work stopped being backed with excitement and passion, and started being backed by fear and desperation. He wanted to remember the last time he had been happy! It might have been the last… 

**_And if you see the shell that's left of me_ **

**_Could you spare him a little kindness_ **

Varian knew his life was over. Every once in a while, he became stuck wondering if his fate had been decided yet. 

When an official sentence was written, would they even tell him? Or would they just leave him here, rotting for the rest of his life, with zero contact to the outside? Or maybe a group of guards would show up, and he would be taken to his death with no warning at all. 

Varian shook that idea from his mind. No. He couldn’t think about that.

Varian considered asking a guard. He only saw them every once in a while, when one marched past the far off mouth of the corridor, in which he was situated at the opposite end of. And of course twice daily, when meals were brought to him. 

Sometimes, they were polite and greeted him, or asked him how he was holding up. It felt really nice to be spoken to by someone, yet whether it was his own mind making it up or not, he still sensed a hint of mockery behind the words. 

When he saw the guards he knew to be Pete or Stan, Varain felt an ounce of relief. They never failed to show him kindness. 

This must be why they were most often stationed near the royal family, and so seldom stationed in the prison. He only saw either of them a handful of times. 

Pete and Stan weren’t the only kind ones, though. There were other guards he knew he could ask his questions to… if only he could manage to speak. 

He’d hear the footsteps approaching and he’d prepare what he wanted to say. 

“Has anything come of my father?” and “When I’m sentenced, will someone inform me?” but when the guard comes, Varian’s mouth and throat just cease up, like they are filled with cotton. 

He can’t answer their polite questions with anything more than a nod, and he can’t ask his questions. 

He _did not_ deserve anyone’s kindness, but he appreciated it deeply. There was so little warmth down here in this cell. He wished he could tell them that, because there are other guards too, who mock him, yell at him, and interrogate him. These are the guards who would leave him shaken up, and sometimes crying. 

This, he knew that he deserved. 

**_'Cause I've been high and I've been low_ **

**_I've spent a thousand nights alone, tryna hold on tight_ **

The nights were the lowest. He slept sporadically, never more than an hour or two at a time, and his sleep was always plagued with nightmares. 

The time he spent “resting” was more exhausting than the time he spent awake. So he fought to stay conscious. 

He’d pace, taking slow steps and always brushing his fingertips along the wall, to combat the chance of him keeling over right there. 

Varian fought to keep himself together. He didn’t know why he bothered. Why does it even matter? 

Varian struggled to keep track of time. He couldn’t be sure how many night’s he has spent like this, but it felt like thousands. 

**_And feelings come but they won't go_ **

**_Please won't someone take me home before I lose my mind_ **

Varain spent one full day sitting in the corner of his cot, whispering equations and formulas out loud, any he could remember off the top of his head. Varian found that it was an effective distraction. 

Until he couldn’t remember any more. 

Varian circled back to the beginning, and this time, he noticed an error in the second one. An error that he had no means to fix. He’d need a pencil at the very least. 

Varian felt his heart begin to race. He couldn’t fix it. He couldn’t solve it. 

Varian screamed, like an animal in agony. He stood up from his cot quickly and his head spun but he ignored it. Varian pounded his fists against the back wall of his cell. 

He didn’t care when he felt his skin tear as it came into contact with the rough stone, and he didn’t care when he felt Ruddiger’s soft coat brush against his ankles, in a desperate attempt to console his friend. 

When Varian was finally all out of energy, he broke. 

Slowly, his fists opened, and his palms pressed against the wall. 

Varian rested his forehead against the wall. 

A sob escaped him from deep in his chest, and Varian fell to his knees, sobbing painful, wretched sobs. 

Ruddiger popped up on his hind legs in front of Varian. The boy scooped Ruddiger up and clutched the racoon tightly against his chest, like he was the only life preserver on a sinking ship.

Through his cries, Varian said “I want to go home!” 

Ruddiger snuggled in closer. 

**_Am I broken?_ **

**_Am I flawed?_ **

**_Do I deserve a shred of worth or am I_ **

**_Just another fake, fucked up lost cause?_ **

This is the rest of his life. Varian acknowledged that. Whether he’d only live another week, or whether they let him live to be an old man. 

Varian wondered if the first option might be more merciful. Yet either way, this was it. This cot, these walls, these Guards. 

And he didn’t even deserve that. 

Varian thought of a future, where all the current guards were long retired, the princess had become Queen, and she’d long since forgotten about him. Everyone has. 

There’d be rumours throughout the guard about him. They’d whisper to each other what they think he did, and some would say they heard he’d been here since he was a kid. They’d say they heard it was a tragedy, to have to lock up a kid so young, but he was a lost cause. They had no other choice. 

Varian wondered if maybe… just maybe… he’d have a better future than that. He wasn’t _completely_ broken… was he? 

Varian knew what he did was wrong… but he had his reasons! And they were valid reasons! … weren’t they? 

Varian shut off these thoughts, the future was far too painful to dwell on. 

**_And am I human?_ **

**_Or am I something else?_ **

**_'Cause I'm so scared and there's no one there_ **

**_To save me from the nightmare that I call myself_ **

The nightmares were awful, and the day’s weren’t much better. 

Varian has never been a stranger to nightmares.

He had them frequently for a few years after his mother died. He’d been five. Varian would run to his father's room in the middle of the night, and stand there in the doorway with tears on his cheeks, and his little knees trembling. 

“Daddy…?” He would say. 

Quiran would wake up just enough to lift the corner of his covers, and pat the empty space next to him. Little Varian would run right over and snuggle against his dad. 

Varian missed the days when nightmares were this easy to escape.

Now, Varian was his own nightmare. And as much as he longed to, he could not escape himself. 

**_I've tried everything and anything_ **

**_But nothing seems to work quite like it should_ **

His whole body- no… His whole self ached. 

His legs had become weak and shaky every time he stood. 

When he moved he irritated the chafing sore beneath the steel shackle around his ankle.

Yet it wasn’t the pain that bothered him, it was the confinement. It was like acknowledging it made the shackle tighter, and the struggle to walk reminded him that it didn’t matter, because there was nowhere to go. 

It made the room smaller. It suffocated him. 

His own thoughts were his worst enemy. He had nowhere to go and nothing to do, and so he thought. And he got hurt. 

**_Between the madness and the apathy_ **

**_Seems there's nothing left inside of me that's good_ **

He imagined what the people in his village might be saying. 

“He was always a good kid, but always a bit odd too. It’s no wonder he went mad.”

“Shame what happened to Quiran’s son, but the rest of us are safer with him put away.”

“With a father like Quiran, it’s shocking how he turned out. I guess a parent can only do so much.” 

It hurt to think about how others saw him. Varian was glad he would never have to face them again. 

That was the one good thing about being locked down here. He couldn’t keep on disappointing people. 

Varian reminded himself of this whenever his confinement enraged him. It was maddening, the loneliness, the boredom. But it was for the best. And he had to remember that. 

The pain, the anxiety, the intrusive thoughts, the mockery, the uncomfortable bed, the nightmares, the dread, the cold. He deserved every bit of it. He’s done evil things. He was guilty, and had to be punished. 

Reminding himself of this was the only way he’d survive.

**_'Cause I've been high and I've been low_ **

**_I've spent a thousand nights alone, tryna hold on tight_ **

**_And feelings come but they won't go_ **

**_Please won't someone take me home before I lose my mind_ **

**_Am I broken?_ **

**_Am I flawed?_ **

**_Do I deserve a shred of worth or am I_ **

**_Just another fake, fucked up lost cause?_ **

**_And am I human?_ **

**_Or am I something else?_ **

**_'Cause I'm so scared and there's no one there_ **

**_To save me from the nightmare that I call myself_ **

**Author's Note:**

> :'(
> 
> Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think!


End file.
